


a sweet poison (but it will kill you all the same)

by Roflskate



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Gay Character, Character Study, Emotional Manipulation, M/M, Making yourself look way more sympathetic to a mind reader than you should, Missing Scene, Period-Typical Homophobia, Stream of Consciousness, Victorian Repression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 13:02:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17142233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roflskate/pseuds/Roflskate
Summary: "Regardless of everything else, he was right about the most important universal truth of all:No one should have to hide who they are, or who they love."-in which Queenie Goldstein discovers that she might have more in common with Gellert Grindelwald than she could've ever thought possible.





	a sweet poison (but it will kill you all the same)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Inessencedivided](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inessencedivided/gifts).



> This work is for the 2018 Grindeldore Holiday Exchange. The prompt was "an outside perspective on the Dumbledore/Grindelwald relationship". Title comes from a quote in A Song of Ice and Fire.
> 
> I hope that you love your gift :)

There was something different about Mr. Graves today.

Not his outfit, for he was always impeccably dressed. Not his wand, because that was polished and resting on his desk, as usual. And not his hair, with not a single strand out of place.

No, there was something different about his _mind_.

It wasn’t like Queenie purposefully tried to snoop into Mr. Graves’s affairs, even though some people (Teenie) seemed to think the was an incorrigible gossip. In fact, the day started off just like any other one. Just like every other day, she walks into his office as he’s going over his morning paperwork, charms over his paper and coffee (as she always does) and instead of ignoring her (as he always does), he _actually_ looks up at her and _smiles_ , of all things.

And that was enough to pique her attention. In the years that she’d worked at MACUSA, Percival Graves had never so much as acknowledged her existence, let alone smiled at her. And while she often tried to only use her abilities when it was absolutely necessary, despite what SOME PEOPLE (Teenie) seemed to think (and yes, sometimes finding out if the handsome man across the bar was interested in something more than a fling _was_ absolutely necessary), she couldn’t help but pry just a little at his mind. The fact of the matter was, she wasn’t entirely sure if she’d get anything out of him considering that most Aurors were so well-versed in Occlumency that you’d be lucky to so much as get an abstract image out of them, but still, it was almost as if something was compelling her to do so, on the off-chance she might catch him unguarded, just this once.

And at first, it’s just like it normally is. There’s a whole lot of nothing, and Queenie’s about to conclude that maybe someone told Mr. Graves that he should try to be nicer to the secretary because one day she might do something unpleasant to the coffee and then where would you be, but as he looks over the front page of the _New York Ghost_ , she’s suddenly hit with a whole wave of emotions.

Now, Legilimency can be a tricky thing even on the best of days. Most of the time, unless she’s having a particularly bad day herself, Queenie can keep it in check, doesn’t let other people’s thoughts influence her all that much. But right here, right _now_ , she’s hit with a whole torrent of feelings that she can’t quite describe. There’s a bit of rage, self-righteousness, and unyielding anger, but also a hint of melancholy and sorrow. Even without the full view of his thoughts, it’s still enough to make her grab her head in pain, Occlumency be damned.

Unfortunately, that particular display wasn’t exactly subtle, and sure enough, Mr. Graves is standing up to his desk, rushing over to Queenie’s side.

Well, _this_ was just peachy.

“Are you all right?” He asks, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“Oh of course!” Queenie says, putting on her best smile, though she’s sure that her nerves are showing through it. The last thing she needed was an interrogation from Mr. Graves, and a lecture about sticking one’s nose where it doesn’t belong (at the very best). She _needed_ this job. And while she can’t exactly read his mind, she can guess that there's none thing that most men don't want to hear about. “I’ve just been feeling a little under the weather, is all. Headache that won’t go away, you see. It usually happens once a month when…”

And that seemed to do the trick. “Please, say no more,” Mr. Graves says hastily, offering her a chair. “Just take as long as you need, and let me know if we need to fetch a healer.”

“I’m fine, really, Mr. Graves, I’m so sorry-”

“There is no need to apologize, my dear. As I have always said-”

But what Mr. Graves said next would have to remain something lost to the ages. Because, the angle she was sitting at finally gave her an opportunity to see what exactly it was that had managed to elicit such a wave of emotions from the Head of Magical Law Enforcement. There, on the front page of the _New York Ghost_ was an article about a Hogwarts Professor with a ridiculous name, and the Seven Uses of Dragon’s Blood.

Unfortunately, that only seemed to leave Queenie with even more questions than answers. And it was hardly like she was going to get any more out of him today. But it was still something to ponder.

“-And if there’s anything else I can do for you, please let me know, Miss Goldstein.” He finishes.

Miss Goldstein. That was the first time Mr. Graves had ever actually used her name. Without even thinking (well, that did seem to be the theme of the morning now didn’t it), she replies:

“Please, Mr. Graves, just call me ‘Queenie’. Tina-, my sister, she’s the career girl, and prefers it herself. Wouldn't want you to mix the two of us up.”

Something shifts slightly behind Mr. Graves’s eyes. A glint that she can’t quite place.

“If you say so, Queenie. But if you ask me, there’s something special about you as well. Don’t sell yourself short.”

Queenie laughs a little as she stands up. “Well, this headache is definitely something special, all right. Thanks, Mr. Graves.” And with that, she excuses herself as quickly as she possibly can, eager not to make any more of a scene than she already had. If she bumps into a vase, she pays it no heed, after all, Mr. Graves is an Auror, and if he hasn’t cast an Unbreakable Charm on it… it’s his own damn fault, now isn’t it?

After that day, despite her best efforts, Queenie never catches Mr. Graves so unguarded again, though his attitude remains much the same. As strange as it was, she has to admit that it’s a nice change. Still, she can’t help but wonder _why_ an article about some Hogwarts (Hogwash) Professor was able to elicit such a reaction from the man (unless it was the Dragon's Blood, which was... equally intriguing, if slightly disturbing). After all, it was a mystery, and actually gave Mr. Graves something resembling a personality.

One true love, and one hell of an adventure later, Queenie finally finds out why Mr. Graves had seemingly changed overnight, and wonders what it says about the man that he was _nicer_ and more human when the world’s most notorious dark wizard was impersonating him.

She tries not to think about what it says about her that she was starting to actually like him.

 

* * *

 

Queenie really can’t figure out where she’d gone wrong. She knew that it wasn’t because she’d been seeing Jacob again, because true love was never wrong, she knew it wasn’t because she’d put him under a teensy tiny love spell for just a second, because she was sure if Newt had just given her some time things would’ve just worked themselves out, and she knew it wasn’t because she came to Paris, because she needed to find her sister _and_ take a minute or two to try and figure herself out (among other things that she was really trying not to dwell on that certainly didn’t have anything to do with her previous two choices). But here she was, in the middle of a strange house with a strange French witch drinking tea after being completely overwhelmed by her own abilities.

All in all, it was a little embarrassing. But just like always, she was determined to make the absolute most of it that she could. And despite a very insistent teapot, she knew that she really had to be getting on her way to find Tina, and maybe then the two of them could help sort some things out.

“…You’ve been real kind, but my sister Tina’s probably worried sick about me, you know. Banging on all the doors and things, so I think I’d better be going.”

“But you haven’t met your host,” the French Witch looks incredibly disappointed, and when Queenie tries to reach into her thoughts, they’re all a blur. As much as she hates to admit it, she's useless when it comes to foreign languages. Way worse than English accents.

“Oh, are you married?” She can’t help but ask. After all, it had been something that was on her mind for some time, what with everything going on with Jacob.

“Let’s say… deeply committed.” There’s something that feels like genuine humour underneath her words, but once again, she can’t get much out of it, other than just… French. She says as much to the other woman, as she leaves, presumably to get her very funny possible husband/possible life partner/possible who can really be sure.

Still, she certainly wasn’t expecting the host to be Mr. Grindelwald of all people, and she certainly wasn't expecting him to walk in like a normal person.

(Sure, he’d been a fair bit nicer than the actual Mr. Graves, but she’d have to be a complete idiot to trust him after everything she’d seen him do and heard about)

“You stay right there. I know what you are.”

“Queenie,” (she can’t help but note to herself that he remembered she’d told him to call her that… how gentlemanly for an unrepentant killer) “we are not here to hurt you. We only want to help you. You’re so very, very far from home. Far away from everything you love. Everything that was comfortable. I would not see you harmed, ever. It is not your fault that your sister is an Auror. I wish you were working with me now towards a world where we wizards are free to live openly, and to love freely.”

And almost like that, Mr. Grindelwald’s barriers seem to come down. She can feel a memory at the forefront of his mind, almost as if he wants her to see it:

_He isn’t sure which of them closed the distance first, and right now he doesn’t even care. Though he’s kissed plenty in his time, this time, it’s someone he wants, someone he needs. There has never been anyone quite like him before, and all their conversations, all their talks have led him to this. He’d Seen many things in his time, but this was something else entirely. This moment, it was something that he needed, more than he’d ever needed anything else. He reaches for his partner’s tie-_

_And then suddenly he breaks away. The both of them are breathing heavily, but when he looks at Albus again, there’s a look of horror in his eyes, underneath the desire._

_“Is something-” he begins, though Albus quickly cuts him off._

_“-We shouldn’t have done that.”_

_He can feel his irritation building. He has seen the way Albus has looked at him for weeks now, and for him to suddenly be sheepish now…_

_“You certainly weren’t objecting a minute ago.”_

_“Gellert, I wasn’t thinking. We weren’t thinking…”_

_“…Then you do not want me?”_

_“You know that it isn’t that… It’s…”_

_Now he can really feel his rage building. Of all the things…_

_“…It’s simply not_ done _.” And here Albus is, suffering so gloriously that were he not so angry, he might be even more attracted to him. He cannot believe what he’s hearing. After everything they’ve discussed…_

_“According to who?”_

_“You know, Gellert.”_

_He can’t believe that he has to entertain this, from Albus of all people. And yet, he does. Never let it be said that he didn’t go after what he wanted._

_“I do. But I want to hear you say it. According to who, Albus?”_

_His face goes slightly red, and how he hopes he’s offended Albus’s dreadful English sensibilities._

_“…The Muggles.”_

_“Exactly, Albus. The Muggles. Tell me this. Why should I care about what they say is and isn’t done? Why should you? They look down on anything that doesn’t perfectly fit into their miniscule worldview, and crush any deviation. If we both desire one another, why should anyone tell us that what we’re doing is wrong? Is this not what we are fighting for?”_

_They are both silent for some time, and he’s about to step away, when Albus pulls the two of them back together and into an embrace, a renewed look of determination in his eyes._

“You are an innocent. Go now. Leave this place.”

Mr. Grindelwald’s voice snaps her back to the present, and as he guides her wand down, she lets him. How could she not? Had he not been in love, just as she was, told by an uncaring society that what he wanted was wrong?

(It also went a long way in explaining what exactly amused the French witch so much when she’d asked about marriage. And the strange wave of emotions she’d felt when he’d looked at the Hogwarts Professor in the paper. Was that him? Albus sounded like the right name, didn't it? Was it actually THE Albus Dumbledore? Had he chosen to follow whatever stupid No-Maj law or tradition it was? He must have, or he’d be with Mr. Grindelwald right now, wouldn’t he? Was that what he’d tried to fight for? Maybe if she’d been in his position, she’d have made the same choices, but can she really be sure?)

What does it say about her that she feels as though the most dangerous dark wizard in the world can understand what she’s enduring in a way that no one else can?

What does it say about the world that a man guided by his passions is considered a dark wizard?

 

* * *

 

Everything is happening so quickly that it’s hard to make sense of anything. One minute, she’s listening to the speech with Jacob (she hopes he’s hearing what she’s hearing, she really does. Mr. Grindelwald understands them in ways that he couldn’t possibly know), and the next, there’s a dead girl and the aurors and everything’s started to go to hell, and it’s all happening at once.

But there’s something else. She can hear glimpses of Mr. Grindelwald’s memories, of his thoughts. Even though she knows he practices Occlumency, she knows that there’s some things that seem to rise to the surface when he’s not paying attention. And right now, she can feel it all. It made the choice that much easier.

“He wants what we want.” She’d never been surer of anything else in her whole life. After what she’d seen, how could she not be?

“No… No no no no…” She can hear Jacob’s protests, and she knows he’s wrong. But she can hear someone else as well. The same man she’d heard in Mr. Grindelwald’s memories before, even if the thoughts were all jumbled and wrong.

“ _No… No no no no…_ ”

“Walk with me.”

 _“Come with me Albus. We needn’t waste any more time._ ”

“Honey, no.”

_“No, Gellert.”_

“Walk with me!”

“ _Come with me!”_

 “You’re crazy.”

_“You’re crazy.” The words are like a slap to his face as Albus rushes to his brother’s side, and he can’t understand it. After everything they’ve been through together… There’s never been anyone else. There can’t be anyone else… It wasn’t…_

After everything they’ve been through together… … There’s never been anyone else. There can’t be anyone else… It wasn’t fair. She can hear her sister and Jacob screaming, she can feel Jacob’s thoughts, but she knows he’s wrong. He's always been wrong.

Mr. Grindelwald understood more than any of them could see. And even if Jacob didn’t see it now, he’d learn in the end. And if not… well… she couldn’t think of that, now could she?

When she walks through the fire, any doubt she might have feels like it was burned away.

 

* * *

 

“Albus Dumbledore. You loved him, didn’t you?”

She asks him when they finally have a moment to themselves, as she looks at Credence Barebone. She can sense his doubt, even though she knows that he did the right thing.

Mr. Grindelwald replies with a smile. “I had hoped that he’d be by my side, as my partner, my equal. There was no one else in the world quite like him. But he chose his path, and I chose mine, long ago.”

She can feel her heart breaking, only a little. It wasn’t fair. It really wasn’t. “You know, there’s still a chance he could see reason. If he’s anything like you are…”

Mr. Grindelwald laughs. “You are kind to hold out hope dear girl, but I fear that it is too late for me. I will mourn his death, do not doubt it, but sometimes sacrifices must be made for the greater good.”

She tries to force a smile but finds that she can’t quite do it. She can’t imagine the pain that he must be feeling right at this moment. To have to kill the one person you love…

“Do not weep for me, Queenie. Knowing that there will be others who can have what I once did is worth any sacrifice that I might have to make. You need not suffer my fate.”

She believes him when he says that. Some people might call her foolish, but she doesn’t care.

Maybe Mr. Grindelwald was a little rough around the edges. Maybe his methods were just a _little_ bit extreme. Maybe he was even wrong about _some_ things. But none of that mattered, because regardless of everything else, he was right about the most important universal truth of all:

No one should have to hide who they are, _or_ who they love.

 

Fin.

**Author's Note:**

> While I was ambivalent on a lot of things in the new movie, I am still deeply intrigued by the Dumbledore/Grindelwald relationship. Furthermore, while I felt that it could've been fleshed out a little more, I'm super into Queenie joining Grindelwald. So, I wanted to do a character study on Queenie, just as much as explore a different (and very selectively biased and somewhat unreliable) perspective on a very complicated relationship.
> 
> If you ever want to say hi, I'm still over at baratheon.tumblr.com.


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